Standing beneath the steeple, playing in the cornfields, learning to be a pastor while trying to faithfully preach the Good News, and the church who loves me anyway.

Preaching in a war-zone

I’ve been awake for some time, after a pretty restless night, and a rather grouchy afternoon yesterday. I feel anxious and out of sorts, and maybe that’s because I feel like my beloved little church has turned into a war zone. It’s not the first time I’ve had these feelings in the 1 1/2 years I’ve been here, but this time, the feelings are hanging over me… it’s been weeks since I haven’t felt this way.

It feels like the church is so permanently on edge that every decision we make starts another round of battle. And I, as the pastor, feel like I’m more or less beating my head against a wall. Every Sunday, I wake up beyond excited because I get to preach the word of God. Every Sunday, and especially on Communion Sundays, I wake up and think “It will be different today. Today we will be the one body of Christ, the church.” But before I can even preach, I hear about all the ways which we’re not acting like one body at all. I don’t hear a lot of the actual conversations (though thankfully, someone will usually fill me in), but as DH is doing the powerpoint and gets in the sanctuary before I do, he hears a lot of these waring things. It’s not that people are shouting at each other, but rather they are refusing to talk to each other. One little group will be in one corner talking about another group, and in another corner there’s another group having another conversation about another group that they don’t like.

I wish I could remember which book this came from, but it was one I read during my first few months at at my church. As I’m remembering it, the author had used several churches as case studies, and one of the churches sounded like ours (though I was still in the honeymoon phase so I didn’t know it sounded like our church.) The people were always fighting and no growth could happen. And the pastor was so frustrated that he said something to the author of the book along the lines of “the best thing that could happen to this church is for the building to burn down. First of all, that would get rid of the sense of ownership and “mine, mine,mine” but it would also give every person something to rally behind: a common goal that would bring them together.” I wish I could go back and read that part, because the church didn’t burn down, but the author and the pastors found a way to bring about earnest change, and the church is now a success story.

I wish there was something that all of us could rally behind, but so far I can’t think of anything big enough to overcome the factions. One of the things that is always in my heart is to pray for peace around the world–because in a lot of cases, we don’t even remember why we’re fighting. I have prayed for an absence of conflict, but more frequently I’ve prayed that there might be reconciliation even in the midst of what is sometimes inevitable. But these days, as I pray for war-zones around the world, I stop, and pray for this little church. I believe that God’s love can and will transform these troubled spots and people, but I’m about ready to see that happen.

God, your church was never meant to be a war zone. But you know that churches are made up of imperfect people. Change our hearts, O God. Make us one body whose only goal is to serve you as fully as we’re able. Bring about the healing, and the restoration, and the transformation that we need to move farther. God, you know.